


Almost Human

by Lincoln_still_sucks



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Sex, Bottom Connor, First Time, I Tried, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Post-Canon, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-03
Updated: 2018-07-03
Packaged: 2019-06-04 20:27:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15155000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lincoln_still_sucks/pseuds/Lincoln_still_sucks
Summary: "After becoming deviant, Connor started to learn many things, mostly about himself. He learned how much he yearned. He wanted more than to solve cases and accomplish simple goals. He lusted for things, things that would be insignificant to just a machine. He had a desire for closeness, he wanted to feel the warmth of another human, Hank in particular."





	Almost Human

**Author's Note:**

> I am so sorry, but I had to jump on this bandwagon. I fell in love with this ship, and Connor is so cute and sweet. He's a good boy.   
> Enjoy, or don't. Tell me about it in the comments! Give me suggestions, and if you like, leave me a Kudos! It's greatly appreciated. Thank you ^.^  
> ~Lili

“Jesus Christ, Connor.” Hank grumbled, eyes narrowed in a strangely affectionate and endeared expression, but there was a hint of malice just barely evident. Connor really didn't know how to react, seeing as working with Hank was not dissimilar to working with a delicate scale. Trying to balance out every word, trying to find the perfect balance between being bluntly honest and convincing was no easy task.

           “I don't understand. Do you appreciate my advances?” Connor asked, unsure and confused as ever. The Lieutenant’s body language certainly said yes, but Connor needed verbal consent. Despite being deviant, he still had a penchant for following orders. 

         “You can't just ask a guy to fuck. Ya need to ease into it.” Hank stated, trying to figure out how to court someone himself. He had never been quite talented enough to get very lucky when he was younger, and he sure as hell wasn't any better now, at age 53.

        Connor took a mental note.  _ It is unacceptable to request sex without having taken previous precautions. What precautions? Shit.  _

        After becoming deviant, Connor started to learn many things, mostly about himself. He learned how much he yearned. He wanted more than to solve cases and accomplish simple goals. He lusted for things, things that would be insignificant to just a machine. He had a desire for closeness, he wanted to feel the warmth of another human, Hank in particular. 

         “I don't understand. How else am I to request something of this nature? Sex is supposed to be consensual.” Connor was still an android, no matter how human he appeared. This frustrated him to no end, he was still restricted by social norms he just couldn't understand easily, or maybe even at all.

        At the very least, Hank was questioning himself just as much. There was a certain indecisiveness to his actions. He desperately wanted the android, yes, but there was something that seemed extremely wrong about fucking his partner, who also happened to be an android, who also happened to have never shown any kind of interest in anything human until that very moment. 

        “Yes or no, Lieutenant?” Connor asked firmly, frustration taking over his previously even, cool tone. His distress was purely like that of a machine’s. He tried to get something, he did everything right, but he couldn't seem to get it. It was, in theory, similar to a bad interrogation. 

         “You don't want me, Connor.” Hank stated, almost as though it was fact. In reality, it was about the furthest thing from fact. Connor yearned. He felt true desire, and wasn't going to take no for an answer if he could help it. 

          That little glimpse of emotion. It was so weirdly out of place on Connor’s face, but it did a damn good job convincing Hank of his desperation. That replica of a human felt human emotions. It was weird to even think of. Before the revolution, Hank just assumed that Connor was nothing but wires and lines of code that told him how to be the biggest dickhead possible. Connor was much more than that, and Hank felt red hot shame and hatred for himself every time he thought of how poorly he treated the innocent android. 

          “Fuck… No, I mean. Jesus Christ. Yes, I want you.” Hank admitted, almost shamefully, despite this having been obvious to Connor for a long while. 

         The corners of Connor’s mouth twitched, he couldn't hold back his smile anymore. He didn't have quite the ability to beam; a broad, toothy smile was the best he could offer, but Hank understood. Connor’s LED flashed yellow for a couple seconds, then continued to spin that delightful neon blue Hank grew to enjoy. 

          “Thank you, Lieutenant!” The edge of excitement that crept into Connor’s voice did not go unnoticed by Hank. He found himself endeared to all of Connor’s strange quirks, and absolutely adored the occasional flash of emotion he provided. He seemed all too human sometimes. Other times, he fell very short, especially in areas he didn't specialize in. Social poise was not exactly his saving grace, actually, it was far from it. 

         “Call me Hank.” A better man would know what else to say. Hank did not. At least Connor didn't mind. He didn't mind much, really. Frequently, Hank found himself wondering why that perfect man would settle for him. After the revolution, Connor could have worked on his own, could have bought his own house, but he stayed with Hank. 

        “Alright,  _ Hank. _ ”

* * *

 

        Connor practically pinned Hank to the wall the moment they made it into the house. Sumo let out a loud  _ boof _ before giving up on getting attention from the men. He padded away to his bed, not bothering to inspect the source of the strange noises elicited by both men. 

        “Jesus Christ, kid. Eager much?” Hank chuckled, a smile spreading across his face. He was just drunk enough not to think too hard about what he was doing, but he would remember the night clearly later. 

        “Can you kiss me?” Connor asked, his voice barely trembling. He felt excited, he felt hesitant, he felt way too much to express easily. His body decided the best way to show all of these complex feelings was to increase his breathing, speed up his thirium pump’s function, try to mimic human arousal. His artificial lungs were going crazy, he felt like he was suffocating despite not even needing air to function. It felt horrible, but he wanted more of it. 

       “If I remember how, sure.” Hank’s attempt at humor wasn't even noticed by Connor. He was overheating, he was blushing like mad, a light blue hue spread across his freckled face. He looked almost perfect, the small humanizing details that covered his face and body seeming to reinforce that. He was so human, he was so real. 

        Hank pressed his lips against Connor’s, his touch light and delicate, then he broke away. Connor thought it was over, wanted that pleasant little electric feeling back. Hank ran a hand through Connor’s umber hair, taking in the texture. It felt real, soft and pleasant to the touch. He was sure as hell better than any human man or woman Hank had ever seen in his life. 

         The men's mouths pressed together again, their movements growing in speed and intensity as they grew more and more desperate. Connor could feel an unfamiliar heat pool in his abdomen, he could feel his entire body stiffen, becoming tense. Connor took note of everything Hank did, trying to find the optimal actions to unravel the man.

        “Touch me,” Connor begged the moment Hank broke away from the kiss for breath. 

         “Okay, but let's sit down. I'm too old for this shit.” Connor released Hank from his iron grip. The few seconds waiting for Hank to sit on the couch, waiting for him to beckon Connor to him so he could sit on his lap, they were agonizing. Connor wanted to be touched, and the fact that he wasn't was just plain frustrating. 

       Hank grabbed Connor’s hips, guiding him to straddle his lap. Connor happily obliged, grinding down on Hank, looking for some form of friction. His movements were wild, spastic and full of a hungry kind of lust. 

       “Fuck, Hank. I need you inside me, touch me, help me.” Connor pleaded. Hank never thought he could see Connor so disheveled, see the normally composed android so needy and desperate. It was perfect, he wanted to see that image forever, but he didn't have Connor’s memory. 

         “Beg for me, baby.” Hank growled, watching with a strange aroused fascination as Connor writhed, trying to get some relief like his life depended on it. Hank had seen Connor in life or death situations, and even then the man didn't show this degree of emotion. Maybe it was a result of deviancy, maybe just the result of repressed emotions and feelings, but it was beautiful. 

         “Please Hank, please touch me, please -” Connor was cut off by lips pressed to his, he moaned into Hank’s mouth, eyes screwing shut as he ground down harder against Hank. 

        Hank tugged on Connor’s tie, throwing it to the side once it was off. Without being able to see, getting Connor’s shirt off was a difficult manner, but the android was more than eager to assist. The shirt was off, and Connor’s body felt so sensitive, cold and  _ exposed.  _

        Hank pushed his hands against Connor’s freckled chest, spreading his fingers, listening to every small, breathy sound that came out of the man. Connor was definitely a screamer, which Hank would have never guessed until then. He had always assumed that he would just remain motionless and soundless, just let his body be used like an object, just as a means for pleasure. Hank never expected… this. 

         Connor wanted more than grinding, he wanted hands on him, he wanted Hank to make him scream with pure ecstasy, pain or anything in between. It was too much even thinking about it, Connor knew he wouldn't last very long, not when Hank was practically bringing him to the edge already.

        “Hank, please fuck me.” Connor’s voice came out in raspy little gasps as he tried to breathe properly. He had never been aware of his breathing patterns, as they were purely aesthetic, but it seemed like he could have run out of breath. If Connor shutdown right then, he would have been more than happy.

        “Can you say that again? I didn't hear you.” Hank teased, savoring every little moan and whimper that came out of the man. Hank licked a strip down Connor’s neck, making the boy shiver from the weird, foreign feeling. Wet and cold, but oh so good. 

         “Please fuck me!” Connor all but yelled, trying to unfasten the button to his pants, pulling the zipper down with shaky fingers. Hank was happy to oblige.

         “Scream for me, bitch.” Hank growled. He was always on the rougher side, loved to humiliate his partners if that was their cup of tea. The blush that covered their faces, the apologies. It was oh so perfect. However, Hank would be lying if he said he didn't love aftercare and sleepy cuddles. 

       “Mm, yes!” Connor shimmied awkwardly out of his pants and tight briefs, freeing his incredibly wet cock. Using joint lubricant for Connor’s sex organs may have been one of Kamski’s better ideas in Connor’s opinion. 

        Out of sight, out of mind seemed to be Connor’s idea with his clothes, as he just threw them with no regard to their destination. Hank would have some difficulty finding them the next morning, but none of that mattered. Time didn't exist then. Time was just an abstract concept that only mattered when the two were working. 

         Hank wanted more time to admire his body, more time to touch him, but that hardly seemed fair. Connor was desperate for what Hank had to offer, which left him almost scared of disappointing the boy. 

         Hank unzipped his pants, tugging his cock from his boxers. He coated the shaft in precum that had beaded at the slit, letting out a shaky moan as he stroked himself. Hank had almost neglected his own cock, being so preoccupied with the beautiful man on his lap.

        Connor wasn't sure what was taking Hank so long. He just wanted to feel the man inside of him, and he seemed to be delaying the inevitable. Connor knew with more soft moans and whimpers, Hank would certainly begin faster. 

         “Mm, Hank, please, I want-” Hank maneuvered his arm underneath Connor and put a finger in his ass, curling it at the knuckle as he felt for the sweet spot. A chill shot up Connor’s spine and he cried out as Hank pressed down on a certain spot. 

         Hank added another finger, scissoring the two as he thrust them in and out. After what Hank decided was an adequate amount of preparation, he positioned Connor over his cock, lining himself up with his pretty little ass. Connor eagerly slid down, there wasn't much difficulty, Hank slipped in easy enough (thank fucking god for Kamski’s perverted genius).

         Hank held Connor by the hips, beginning to move, trying to find the perfect rhythm for both. Connor’s hips rolled forward, and he seemed more than content just riding Hank, which almost came as a relief. 

         There it was again, the sweet spot inside of Connor that made him scream, tip his head back and say Hank’s name like his life depended on it. Hank hit the spot again and again, each time sending a jolt through Connor’s body, going straight to his cock. He had a hand wrapped around his length, stroking like mad, no rhythm, just need. 

          Connor let his head fall onto Hank’s shoulder, his shirt muffling all of the little sounds that came from his throat. Unintelligible whines and begs came from Connor’s mouth, but Hank couldn’t concentrate on any one thing. The soft tightness of Connor’s ass was oh so good, and the way the boy ran out of breath to scream and resorted to small noises. It was perfect. 

         Connor was so close, the warm feeling in his belly just growing more and more intense as Hank fucked him harder. His cock twitched, the tip a bright red, leaking lubricant all over Hank’s clothes.  _ Well, at least the couch will be okay.  _

         As Hank hit Connor’s prostate (which was really just a variety of sensors) for what felt like the millionth time, Connor felt his body shudder completely.

          “Hank!” Connor screamed out, cumming in ropes onto his hand and Hank’s chest. He bounced on Hank’s cock, riding out his orgasm, that fervorous feeling spreading all across his usually touch starved body. He moaned and whimpered words that he didn't understand, his entire being racked with ecstasy. 

        His head felt cloudy, but in a pleasant way. He was hardly aware of the fact that Hank was still pounding into him with growing intensity. He felt hazy and a little sleepy. He was aware that his systems were overheating and he competely overworked his body, but that was nothing that a night of inactivity couldn't fix.

         When Hank came with a grunt inside Connor’s ass, he felt odd. A little unsanitary, but wonderful. He hardly noticed when he was laid down on the couch, tucked underneath some blankets and wiped down with a warm washcloth that Hank had retrieved from the bathroom. 

         “Hank?” Connor muttered in a small voice as he curled up against the  man. Hank grunted, which Connor recognized as a yes. 

        “I think I love you. I don't know what love feels like, but I think this might be it.” Connor mumbled, eyes fluttering close as he listened to Hank’s steady breathing. 

          “I love you too, you crazy fucker.” Hank ran a hand through Connor’s hair, gently rubbing his scalp with a special smile reserved for only Connor. 

          Connor let his systems shut down, falling into a state of nothing. Early morning the next day, he would wake up, his body recovered. 


End file.
